


homeward bound

by Yeokseokbam



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Alternate Universe - Historical, Jean is a wheat farmer, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Character(s), Wheat farming, inspired by a song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:07:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27302419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yeokseokbam/pseuds/Yeokseokbam
Summary: Armin comes home.
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Jean Kirstein
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	homeward bound

**Author's Note:**

> This oneshot was inspired by a choral song I sung just a couple weeks ago for a performance of mine! I really wanted to create an aot fic for the inspired universe of this song, and felt the armin/jean pairing suited it the most! I hope you can enjoy <3
> 
> Disclaimer:
> 
> I know next to nothing about wheat farming, or running a farm in general, so none of these depictions are accurate.

jean began his day as he normally would, rising before the sun. he never bathed at this time, it was uncomfortable to do so, seeing as his form of a shower was hauling a bucket from the well in the yard and pouring it over himself. 

the summer was proving to be kind though, and more often than not, jean could brave the early mornings with a singlet alone, no need for a jacket. 

he'd been working the farm alone for two years now, the time that had passed since his mother died. marco was considerate enough to stop by and lend a hand, but jean preferred it this way. 

the hours spent in solitude were a welcome thing. of course he dropped by into town for a drink and a warm meal on occasion, but jean was a man who kept to himself.

he could count the amount of people he interacted with on his fingers. marco was the obvious one, having lived nearby for the entirety of his life. sasha braus could also be considered a close acquaintance, the woman who ran the main tavern in town. then there was ymir, someone who jean wasnt particularly fond of, but she was a good source for leather and was the only person he could rely on to sell him high quality boots.

there were a couple more neighbors and drinking buddies at the tavern too, but jean couldnt honestly say he cared about them. 

he brushed his teeth out back, a towel hung over his shoulder. in the distance, he could make out the stretch of forrest, and just beyond, the mountain which stood just north of the village. he spat, rinsing his mouth out with a mug of water and headed inside to get changed. he threw on a loose singlet, worn and speckled with stains, perfect for the fields. longer pants were needed to protect his legs from grass cuts and any nasty bugs out there, something jean learned from his mother the hard way. 

at first, he preferred to wear shorter pants, as it got hot out in the fields, but spending a night itching away at his calves quickly changed his mind. 

courtesy of ymir, he pulled on a pair of working boots, the soles pretty much molded into the perfect fit due to so much use. he grabbed a slice of half stale bread from the night before for a quick breakfast before setting off. 

he had a shed out back for all his tools, hung neatly on hooks he'd fastened himself. nudging the stubborn shed door, it croaked as it swung, giving way, and opening up. it wasnt very large, but it was enough for jean.

he grabbed a leather fastener from a nearby hook and threw it over his shoulder. next, he chose a ploughing tool, a hoe, and made his way out. 

the grass was growing drier by the day and for the past two weeks, not one sign of rain had passed him by. he hoped for both his farm and the town's sake, that this drought did not last more than a month. 

his stable was a short walk from the shed and as the hay crunched underneath his feet, a low, deepthroated grunt sounded through the small stable. 

"mornin' tessy," he reached a hand up to gently brush the chocolate colored mane. she leaned into his touch and as he adjusted the reins, leading her out from the enclosed space, she followed obediently. 

he'd raised her since she was a pony, short and stout, and was a prized part of jean's farm. tessy had grown along with jean, standing tall and strong after years of working the farm alongside her owner. 

from dragging a ploughing tool through the earth, to helping jean haul fresh game through thick bush, tessy had been honed for a life spent alongside jean. 

the amber eyed man hung his tools on the horse's side, using a leather strap, careful not to let the sharp edges near tessy's torso. once satisfied, jean guided tessy towards the road, beginning the trek that lead to his family field.

he harvested wheat, and on the occasion, would go hunting in the woods close to his home. he always preferred taking his own game to the butcher's chopping board. locally sourced meat was always welcome there. 

sasha braus always paid him a generous amount for meat when towns gossip of jean's latest hunt found it's way to her tavern. maybe he'd go hunting this evening. 

the morning passed by relatively quietly, jean only having to scan the field for any abnormalities. Once satisfied, he lead a barrow full of compost that marco dropped off the night before and began to haul it over the sprouts, careful not to drown them in the fertilizer. 

tessy helped him out, jean having attached the barrow to the horse's harness. it was mid morning when jean finally stopped to take a break, hands on his hips, sweat rolling down his face and arms in beads. 

He'd foregone gloves, the weather much too warm to be comfortable. wearing long pants was enough heat torture for him. Jean took a couple sips from his canteen before leading tessy over to a water trough for a drink of her own. 

As he was waiting for his horse, patiently brushing the hair on her back, the sound of clomping hooves had him turning his head. warm brown eyes greeted him underneath a well worn rounded leather hat. 

"marco," jean nodded, leaning an arm against the fence that separated his field and the gravel road. 

"jean." marco jumped down off of his own horse, closing the distance between him and jean. "you've been out all morning huh?" 

jean nodded, "the usual. i'll call it a day soon. probably go hunting this evening."

"dont let the braus' know, they'll have half the town expecting fresh game at the tavern tonight," marco half joked, tying lens' harness to the wooden fence between them. Lens was marco's old mare, tall and gentle, very much like his owner. 

"she bothering you still?" jean raised a questioning eyebrow at the other, left corner of his lip tugging upward. sasha braus hadnt been very subtle when advancing on marco, one of the more popular bachelors in the township.

marco chuckled, rolling his shoulders. "yeah no, she's seemed to hop off of that wagon. word around town has it that she and springer are the new thing." 

"springer?" 

"connie springer. you know, skinhead." marco gestured with his hand, in attempt to imitate a bald head. jean nodded in recognition and marco continued, "just glad to have her off my shoulders."

"you need to settle down sometime marco, we ain't getting any younger around here," jean told him. 

"like you can talk," marco scoffed. "anyway, i should get going, im meeting leonhart up on the mountain." he goes to untie his horse, unwinding the leather strapping. 

"what business you got up there?" jean asked. annie leonhart was a small blonde woman who raised cattle up on the mountainside. she did have a father, who jean would see on occasion, but they kept to themselves for the most part.

"ah, just rounding up a few strays. said she spotted some yesterday when i saw her in town." 

"alright," jean gently patted tessy's neck, "we should get back to work too." 

as he's mounting, marco tipped his hat and jean waved him goodbye. marco called over his shoulder, "i'll come by this afternoon with some bonemeal from leonhart."

marco did indeed return that afternoon, an armful of bonemeal in tow, which will be very much useful for jean the next day. jean stored it away in his shed, along with the remainder of his tools, making sure to leave it all as he found it that morning.

"you still going for a hunt?" marco had his shoulder pressed against the doorway of jean's shed. 

"yeah," jean replied after taking a swig from his canteen. the heat had only risen since that morning, both farmers practically covered from head to toe in sweat. "why are you still standing there?" 

marco made room for jean as he stepped out, "well im done for the day, figured i might as well tag along." 

jean shrugged, "alright." he was never opposed to marco joining a hunt. if anything, marco was probably the only person he had the patience for during a hunt. 

"anything interesting happen with leonhart?" jean asked as they trekked through the woods, guns in hand. he was careful to watch for any traces of animals--usually wild rabbits were the easiest to find. so far, it'd been quiet, but they were too close to the edge of the wood for anything worthwhile.

"actually yes," marco replied, voice hushed. "arlet's coming back in a few days." 

"arlet?" jean breathed, voice low.

marco nodded in confirmation, "yeah, the scrawny kid. his grandfather's not doing so well so he's coming back to help him out." 

"since when did leonhart keep in touch with arlet?" jean asks. 

marco shrugged, "heck if i know. maybe armin's old man is friends with leonhart. wouldnt surprise me."

"maybe," jean muttered in a half hearted response. 

armin. 

now that was a name he hadn't hear in a while. 

adjusting his grip on the gun, jean continued forward, "c'mon, i wanna get a few good kills before dusk." 

\--

  
jean and marco entered the butchery through the back door, two decent sized rabbits strung over jean's shoulder, marco sporting two of his own. the sun was just setting, casting dim gold light over the township. 

there were several villagers filtering in for a drink at the tavern down the street, conversation loud and unconstrained. 

erwin smith was cleaning a knife, hunched over a pail of water, apron smeared with blood stains. his blonde hair was parted to one side, slick and shiny, even after a day of work. marco saved jean from interrupting the old man. 

"smith!" marco gave edward a less than soft slap on the back, earning a slew of unpleasant words from the man's mouth. 

erwin craned his head, eyeing the two young men, not looking so pleased to be disturbed. however, when he notices the four meat rabbits, he throws a pointed finger. "leave 'em on the chopping board and i'll have 'em ready by morning."

"thank you sir," jean nods before doing as he's told. 

"how much--" 

"--free of charge," edward says, jean barely able to finish his sentence. "so long as you buy me a drink tonight." 

marco readily agrees, ignoring the reluctant glance jean throws his way. "of course! we'll come back round in an hour." 

jean grunted his own goodbye, trailing after marco. he untied tessy from the wooden post protruding from the ground outside the butchery. "we really need to start paying smith with real money. those rabbits are worth more than a drink," jean says to marco.

"is this you trying to be courteous or you just dont want to hit up the tavern tonight?" 

jean swung a leg over tessy, mounting himself, marco following suit atop lens. "im not avoiding the tavern. just feels a little unfair that we dont pay him like all the rest do."

"true," marco said, a considering look on his face. he pulled the reins, trotting leisurely through the township. "but you know smith was good friends with your mother...he's probably just trying to be a good friend." 

a sour expression settled on jean's face, mouth thinning into a hard line. "i dont need pity favors from anyone." 

marco didnt respond. 

\--

the wooden floorboards of the opening porch that preceded the entrance of the tavern creaked beneath their feet, groaning at the added weight. chest deep laughter and drunken men could be heard from a mile away. 

erwin smith was seated in the corner, at a table with a few other regulars, seated beside a short, dark haired man that jean remembered to be levi ackerman, one of he owners of the inn downtown. Erwin was hunched over a plate of beef and potatoes, sober unlike the rest of his company. he was probably waiting for jean and marco this whole time. 

marco leaned over, whispering into jean's ear, "well, a promise is a promise."

jean only grunted in reply before making his way through the maze of tables, towards erwin. marco followed closely behind. 

the only acknowledgement either men recieved from erwin was a faint nod towards the bar, where sasha braus was chatting up regulars and pouring drinks. that was enough for jean who headed straight for the bar. marco was polite enough to sit down at the table and entertain whoever those drunk men were. 

jean couldnt have cared less. 

sasha greeted him with her usual wide grin. "long time since you've been 'round here ol'jean." 

he resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the woman. "i told you to stop callin' me that." he fished out two silver coins, dropping them on the bar. "two beers." 

sasha smacked her lips, sliding the coins into her palm and pocketing them. "you're being awfully generous tonight. alright, two beers coming up." 

jean tucked his hands into his pockets, having changed his shorts for longer, more modest pants, and a loose pale button up that had been his father's old shirt. he surveyed the tavern, scanning for familiar faces. it wasnt hard to spot a few. 

ymir had a lazy leg propped up on a stool beside her, taking a drag, historia reiss to her left. they were accompanied by people jean had never seen, most probably travelers dropping in for a drink. ymir craned her neck towards the bar placing her butt on the table, and gave a curt nod upon meeting jean's eyes. he returned the gesture, swiveling on his heels to face the bar, a forearm rested on the countertop.

"you've got quite the crowd tonight," jean noted and sasha hummed in agreement, brown hair bouncing with the movement. 

"it's the heat, papa says. and the longer days," sasha says, placing two large pints of beer in front of the other. "travelers are in here left and right."

"interesting."

as the words left jean's mouth, sasha slapped a hand down on the bar, pointing a finger past jean's shoulder. 

"arlet!" 

jean's shoulders tensed as he was reaching for the two pints, and he turned, ignoring the heads that turned towards the doorway. he wasnt in the mood for this. 

making a beeline for marco and erwin, jean's legs moved on their own, his mind elsewhere. he all but slammed the drinks down in front of erwin, and in a less than pleasant voice said, "here's your payment old man."

marco flinched, shocked at the sudden urgency. erwin remained nonchalant, grunting his thanks and jean dragged a spare seat to sit beside marco. 

he could feel marco's eyes on him but the latter seemed to understand that jean didnt want to talk, so he continued his conversation with erwin.

he was well aware that armin had entered the tavern and he did not want to face him tonight, or perhaps ever. like everything jean did, he ran home like a coward.

  
\--

word spread fast about armin's arrival. 

jean had yet to actually see the man himself, but boy did he hear things. 

armin had left the village six years ago, when he was sixteen and old enough to begin studying at a college in the city. according to town gossip, he was now in the early stages of practicing medicine, as an apprentice. 

he was staying at the inn downtown, beside the braus' tavern, owned by the ackerman family. 

it was more than enough reason for jean to stay away from the township for a while (not that he was a regular there in the first place). but there was only so much he could ask marco to do in place of him.

after two weeks of asking marco to run his errands in town (which consisted of dropping game off at erwin's butchery), jean set off mid morning to purchase a few things at the market, which, to his misfortune, was down the street beside the ackerman inn. 

he had the decency to change beforehand, wearing a loose shirt in place of the singlet he'd donned this morning. the sound of mid morning chatter flitted through the air, the smell of pine and fresh flowers nipping at jean's nose. 

in the corner of his eye, he spotted historia behind a stall of floral arrangements, speaking animatedly with another young woman with short almond colored hair. ymir had a stall of her own beside the florist, leather and fur products on display. he gave a nod to both woman as he passed by.

he made a mental note to buy a new pair of boots for the next harvest.

jean first visited a stand selling potatoes, trading a coin for a bag of ten. the old woman selling them was nice enough to allow him to pick his own from the basket displayed--some stall owners werent as generous. 

after bagging ten, he thanked her and went on his way, pushing his way through the crowd of market goers. he kept his head hung low, glad to have brought a rounded hat, courtesy of marco. no one had so much as tried to approach him. 

he grabbed a few more essentials, including a glass of milk from mr. pixis before turning on his feet, eager to begin the trek home. he must've been too overzealous to think he'd leave this market without having to face armin, who was sure to be exploring, sightseeing, and catching up with the whole town. he was never one to stay confined--jean, of all people, knew it all too well.

maybe it was karma for holing up on his homestead whilst marco ran his errands for him. or maybe the universe decided that jean had been living far too comfortably. the wheat farmer cursed the universe under his breath as he came eye to eye with a familiar pair of stark blue eyes. he didnt even need to take a second glance to recognize him. jean couldnt mistake the man for anyone else but armin.

he looked different. gone was the childish face jean had looked upon everyday of school. he'd filled out, no longer scrawny, and was a decent height--not as tall as himself, but much taller than the last time jean had seen him.

but that wasnt the most shocking change. for jean, it was the hair.

armin's straw colored hair had seemed to darken with age, still light, but it was notably darker. he'd also cut it shorter than the shoulder length locks he used sport, but the fringe remained, albeit tidier. 

he wore what jean would expect a city boy to wear--a clean white button down blouse, cuffs rolled up to the elbows. along with a modest dress pants, he also wore dark blue suspenders. 

before jean could look away, armin pulled a hand from his pocket, giving the former a wave. mikasa, the dark haired woman who worked the inn, stood beside him, arms wrapped around a bunch of flowers. 

armin seemed to waste no time closing the distance between him and jean, and embraced the other without hesitation. jean froze, arms seemingly stuck in place at his sides, heart pounding in his ears. 

"jean! where have you been? I've been back for two weeks now!" he said pulling back, arms firm on the other's shoulder, as if holding the other at bay. 

words seemed to fail him and all that came in response was a gurgle of incoherent sounds. 

armin raised an eyebrow in confusion. "what was that?" 

jean cleared his throat, willing himself to calm down. slowly, "ive been working the farm." 

"of course," armin smiled and jean could feel his heart in his throat. even after all these years, armin was still overwhelmingly beautiful. "i see you havent changed." 

neither have you, jean wanted to say. 

armin continued, "are you leaving the market right now?"

the blue eyed man glanced down at jean's armful of purchases and jean suddenly felt very small under the other's stare. 

"uh, yeah." 

he looked crestfallen at the reply, hands dropping from jean's shoulders. "oh." armin scratched the back of his neck, "well i hope i can see you around." 

jean nodded, averting the other's overbearing gaze, the tension in his body growing by the second. if he didnt move now, he'd stay planted there, boots glued to the ground until armin himself had left. 

barely a mutter, jean bid armin goodbye, pushing past the other. not once did he look back, eyes trained forward. the other townsfolk seemed a blur together, an odd mixture of shapes an colors and for the rest of the day, he couldnt shake the image of bright blue eyes from his thoughts. 

\--

"so you ran into arlet?" 

jean nearly flinched at the question, the grip on his gun only faltering for a moment. he threw a glare over his shoulder at marco. 

"yes," he muttered, resting the barrel on his shoulder once more readjusting his aim. 

marco was seated upon a small boulder, leaning a lazy arm atop his knee, chin rested on his fist. it'd only been a day since jean had ran into armin, but it seemed gossip among town folk had already found it's way to marco's ears. 

"he's been asking about you."

jean didn't reply.

"why are you avoiding him? i thought you two were pretty close." 

"we were...but that was a long time ago." 

sixteen year old armin and sixteen year old jean. they were young and free and naive. neither had changed, at least not drastically, but maybe jean had become closed off to the world. 

"did something happen between you two?" the older was concerned it seemed, the soft tone of his voice very telling. there was no hiding anything from marco but...jean wasnt ready to open up about anything anytime soon. 

"yeah," jean let out honestly. 

"i see." marco didnt pry any further. 

silence blanketed them for a moment, and jean could feel the steady thrum of his heart in his chest.

squawks sounded nearby, a flap of wings following. jean pointed his gun upwards, a keen eye, a steadying hand, a poised finger hovering.

bang!

jean jolted, barrel digging into his shoulder with the kickback. a gunshot fired and a bird fell from the sky, shooting through the foliage bristling past leaves and wayward branches, landing on the forest floor with a soft thump. more squawking ensued as the rest of the flock scattered, fleeing from the scene, leaving their dead flock mate behind.

"nice shot."

standing and reloading another bullet into his barrel, jean shot a, "thanks," over his shoulder before moving to retrieve his kill. it was almost routine for he and marco to hunt on sunday mornings, when the church service was still in session, and most farmers and business owners were sleeping in for the day. 

after heading back towards the town, jean and marco parted ways, marco offering to take jean's kill in to erwin to pluck and clean, seeing as he had some errands to run in the township. the fading chorus of the sunday morning congregation reminded jean of when he and his mother used to attend the services together. 

she'd hold his hand tight, fussing over the state of his hair, shoes, and clothes to the very last second before standing tall and straight, a signal for jean to follow. at the time, jean despised the hour long services, followed by impromptu sermons from the priest who stood at the alter, a bible in hand. 

he hated the fact that his mother cared so much about what the other church goers thought of her, hated the passive persona she embodied when walking through the archway. 

but now, as jean had matured and learned more about the world, he'd come to understand his mother. in order to avoid the shame of having to bear and raise a child without a father in the home, she would allow others to believe she was a devoted woman of faith, allowed that image to shadow the one she was so ashamed of.

sometimes, jean would wonder why she even raised him in the first place. his mother couldve easily dropped him at the front doorstep of an orphanage and begin her life anew in a far away town. 

but she hadnt and, perhaps, had paid the price for the rearing the life of a bastard child. 

he'd first met armin at the very church where his mother's funeral took place. he was the shortest boy there, and at first, jean had mistaken him for a girl. he only saw the hair first, as he stepped through the doors, in all its straw colored glory. but the clothes gave him away, since every girl in the chapel wore loose skirts and flaunted colored ribbons in their hair. 

armin was dressed in a worn button up, pants much too long, barely held up by a fraying leather belt. he was notably smaller than most of the younger children at the service, jean and marco practically towering over him. he stayed close to his grandfather the entire time, and it was only as he'd left the service that jean caught a glimpse of armin's most striking feature. 

the diamond blue eyes had struck him like a wagon in the dust, brilliant and soul piercing. he'd seen blue eyes before, yes, but no one compared to armin, whose orbs seemed to hold a whole universe behind them, possibilities of exploration endless.

he'd been so star struck at the sight that his mother had to pinch his ears, tugging him to move along, so as not to hold up the rest of the congregation filtering out of the chapel. 

he soon learned that armin was not a shy person. he was very approachable and could talk jean's ear off all day long if the latter allowed it, which he most often did. he was curious and keen to unveil the mysteries the world had to offer, constantly nagging at jean to join him one day and travel to the ocean. 

the ocean. 

it was something armin had always yearned to witness. it seemed fitting for armin, whose eyes seemed just as bright and brilliant as any body of water, if the sparkling lake far east was anything to go by. 

jean wondered if armin ever made it to the ocean in the years they'd spent apart. he wondered why armin had returned at all.

  
\--

the wheat field had begun to sprout two weeks prior and was now in the early stages of leaf erection. everything was going smoothly--mostly. 

jean just wished it would rain. it'd been just under a month since the last rain in their region and the town mayor had declared it to be drought season officially. 

"about bloody time," erwin had said when marco told him the news. jean had stopped by with the other to pick up some bones and scraps for horse feed. 

by the time he finished in the field that day, the sun was on the edge of the horizon, casting golden light upon the surrounding fields. the dry grass swayed in an italic stance, not yet brittle enough to snap, as a humid evening breeze swept through the pasture. 

he bathed outside, using only a bucket of water to wash the dirt from the day off his body, before settling in a thin cotton singlet and pair of old trousers on the front porch, biting into an apple. 

it was too warm for jean to have built up an appetite. 

a glance to the left and the flash of blonde hair caught him off guard. he let the bitten off piece of apple sit in his mouth for a moment as he tried to determine whether or not armin was really approaching his home. 

the smaller man was indeed headed for jean's house, wearing an almost identical outfit to the one he had donned in the market the other morning. he was unaccompanied, fists balled as he stalked up to jean's front step. 

jean looked up at the other, swallowing the remainder of his apple. 

armin spoke first, "i came to see you." he was almost breathless, chest rising at a faster rate than a leisurely walk should evoke. did he run here? 

jean stood, tossing the apple core into the surrounding bush. "come on in." he lead the other into his living room--it was nothing huge, if anything, it was tiny. there was a single wooden chair at the dining table and a stool that jean often used to tie his bootlaces in the mornings. 

jean took a seat the stool, gesturing for armin to take the larger seat. he allowed the other to catch his breath for a moment. 

"you've been avoiding me jean." armin wasted no time it seemed. he added, "im not stupid."

far from it, jean thought. he replied with two genuine questions. "why did you come back? why didnt you just leave this all behind?" 

"my old man...i cant just let him die." armin's voice was quiet...defeated. armin didnt look him in the eye, and jean realised armin couldnt face the fact that he was about to lose the one person who had never left his side. 

jean turned his focus to the other's hands that were rested on the dining table; a telling sign of armin's was when he balled his fists, skin stretched white over his knuckles. 

"he's dying isnt he?" jean asked softly. 

armin nodded, a grim expression cast over his face. his mouth was settled in a hard line, and without having to be told, jean stood, taking careful steps toward the other. 

he looked armin right in the eyes, heart stopping for just a second, before he wrapped his arms around the other, pulling him into an embrace. armin didnt object, pressing his face into the other's abdomen, breathing in. 

"it's been so hard jean," armin murmured into the fabric of his singlet. "i left this place to become something great, to save him from this wretched place, and now i cant even do that. even with my stupid medical degree." 

jean ran a tentative hand through armin's hair in attempt to communicate to the other that he understood the pain of losing a loved one. words were never his strong suit; that was a skill reserved for armin. so he allowed his actions to speak for him. 

"he'll be dead." armin spat, anger shining through his despair. "he'll be dead and i'll have no one." 

he didnt cry. 

jean wished he would. 

but armin had been broken before, and like jean, he'd picked himself back up and never looked back. armin had the courage, that jean did not, to venture out into the world to pursue his purpose.

jean had chained himself to the farm in fear. 

"i'll be here." jean told him. "you can always find me here." 

"i know," armin had replied. 

  
\--

jean decided to pay a visit to the arlet household. he brought tessy along with him, as the walk to the arlet's homestead wouldve taken a long while. the morning air was almost unbearable, flies and insects alike becoming a growing concern for both townsfolk and farmers. 

drawing water from the well was becoming tedious, and jean worried that he'd have to harvest earlier this season before the grain dried out. 

pushing those thoughts aside, he pulled on a short sleeved button up, one marco had landed to him a while ago. he ditched the tie, not wanting to come off as too formal. he stared at the shared mirror that stood against his wall, a keepsake of his mothers. he hadn't the heart to throw it away, despite how utterly useless it was. 

it barely reflected a clear image, covered in rust and grime. he needed to clean it sometime soon. 

he had nothing of worth to offer armin accept his company. he suddenly felt guilty for avoiding the other for the past three weeks and ran a hand through his hair, letting out a deep rooted sigh. 

armin knew he was coming to visit, so it came as no surprise that the other was standing at the doorway, biting on his nails. 

jean wasnt sure how to interpret the strange air that floated between them, but didnt object when armin held a hand out to him. his hands were soft and smooth a stark contrast to the calloused, rough surface of jean's own farmhands. 

the taller closed the door to the arlet's home behind him and armin pulled him into the kitchen, letting his hand slip away as he turned to face the other. 

the place hadnt change one bit since jean had last stepped foot in the house. it was much more spacious than his own, but still relatively small. the white paint that lined the walls was slowly chipping away with age, a single portrait of armin's late grandmother hung above the empty fireplace in the living room. 

armin took a breath. "do you want go in alone?"

jean nodded, "it'd be better if i did." a pause. "how long..."

"how long does he have left?" armin finished for him, jean nodding in affirmation. "i'd say a week to be generous," he folded his arms across his chest sighing. "but he probably wouldnt want to stick it out for that long. you'll understand when you see it for yourself." 

jean wasnt quite sure he wanted to see it for himself. it hadnt crossed his mind that armin's grandfather couldve fallen sick in the past few months. it was normal for the old folk to keep to themselves. 

"alright." jean entered the bedroom at the very end of the hallway, the door groaning as he gently nudged it with his shoulder. the room was almost silent, and the air felt thick and muggy. 

armin had explained that he had to keep the windows and doors shut to keep both the bugs and the breeze out, because of edward's condition. the old man was bedridden, arms stiff at his sides beneath a thin blanket. 

jean drew a sharp breath--edward arlet, who, the last time jean had seen him, was large and solid in stature, albeit on the shorter side, had now been reduced to skin and bones. his face had sunken in, his complexion now a sickly grey. a flannel sat atop his wrinkled forehead, and his chest rose slow and shaky, as if it took just that much effort to breath. 

jean had no words to describe the way his heart broke inside of him. 

armin was right. a week to live was being far too generous--no, it was being cruel. jean sat beside edward on a stool beside the bed, staring at the old man's face. 

he didnt know what to say, where to start, because again, words were not his strong suit. it's not like he was even close to the old man either, but he felt some obligation to say goodbye at least. 

"i dont know what to say but, i do know that when you leave this world, armin wont be alone." it came our barely a whisper, and jean wasnt even sure if edward was listening, but he continued. 

"i'll watch out for him. so you can go now. you can leave the pain of this world behind, im sure--" he cleared his throat, "im sure your wife is waiting for you up there."

he took one last look over edward's frail body before standing. 

"goodbye edward." 

he closed the bedroom door behind him. 

  
\--

  
edward arlet passed away that wednesday. it was early in the morning, before the sun had even risen, the moon not yet ready to take its leave. armin had come knocking gently on jean's door, dressed in his night clothes. 

the wheat farmer opened the door groggy eyed and tired, but when he saw the blonde haired man with silent tears in his eyes, he didnt hesitate to pull the other into his arms. 

armin finally cried. 

\--

edward's service was short, his burial not much different. a decent amount of the townsfolk had gathered together to offer their condolences, and goodbyes. among them was erwin smith, who seemed to have known edward better than he'd ever let on, going so far as to lay a single rose atop edward's casket. the braus family also made an appearance, along with the ackermans who sat beside armin in the front.

jean stood at the back of the chapel with ymir and historia during the service.

when both the burial and service were over and done with, jean took his leave riding tessy home beside marco, who'd also come to pay his respects. they didnt speak. there was nothing to say. 

armin departed two days after. jean found out through marco, who'd come by to help him begin preparations for the upcoming harvest, which was due earlier as a result of the dry weather. he'd shown little to no reaction at the news, only feeling numb. 

it might've been the heat, but jean was feeling emptier than usual. 

he threw himself into a tight routine in the following week, spending everyday in the field from an hour before dawn to dusk. he had multiple grass cuts along his forearms from cutting and tying up the wheat bundles, and his back and shoulders ached from the tiring work. 

it provided a good distraction, as it kept his mind off a certain blonde haired man. it left jean too mentally and physically drained to even think about anything other than making sure the harvest ran smoothly. 

it took him six days to clear the field, and another four to remove and bag the wheat kernels into white cotton sacks he'd purchased months beforehand. marco came around to help him transport the sacks onto the next train in exchange for a heaping amount of gold coins. 

he gave marco a quarter of the share, as payment for the help he always offered on the farm. he stored the remainder in his chest of drawers, where he kept the bulk of his coins and called it a day. 

\--

jean had been reluctant but finally caved into marco's insistence nagging that he join him at the tavern that night. apparently connie springer was planning to propose to sasha that night and the braus family were providing free drinks because of the occasion. 

"you need to get out of the house," marco had argued. "you've been holed up in here, or on the farm for two weeks now. it's time you got some fresh air." 

it was true. jean haunt stepped foot in town since edward's funeral, but it wasnt because he was avoiding anyone. he was simply too busy. 

it seemed that marco had been right about the proposal. connie springer did indeed lower onto one knee beside sasha, and offer her his hand in marriage--the whole tavern watched with keen eyes, most likely thankful for a cheerful event after such a grim funeral. 

sasha had cried, "yes!" she had tears in her eyes and leaped onto poor connie, tumbling to the floor in the process. the male was equally as ecstatic, and jean had to admit, their joy was contagious. 

even erwin, who was brooding in the corner, had a small smile on his face as he witnessed the two's engagement. 

as the night continued, jean grew tired and tapped marco lightly on the shoulder. "im going to head off now. goodnight."

marco waved him off with a lazy hand, cheeks dusted red. he'd been drinking and nudging elbows with reiner most of the night, so jean asked the braus' to watch out for him. once that was off his shoulder, he stepped out of the tavern, a breeze of cool air hitting his face. 

it felt refreshing after emerging from the near suffocating air within the tavern. 

a flash of blonde to his left has him whipping his head in that direction, feeling a sense of dejavu. it was annie leonhart, leaning against the wall, arms folded in front of her. 

"going home?" she asked him.

jean nodded. "whatre you doing out here? i dont usually see you around here." 

"the old man's inside," she gave in way of explanation. "i could ask the same about you." 

"boldt dragged me along."

annie hummed thoughtfully and reached into her front breast pocket, pulling out a small piece of folded parchment. she took a step toward jean, holding it out for him to see. at first he was confused--he and leonhart werent exactly friends--why would she be offering him a letter? 

however he soon understood as he took a closer look at the paper in her hand. even in the poor lighting, jean instantly recognized the familiar swirl of armin's scrawl. 

"here," she prodded. "i recieved it a couple days ago. it's for you." 

jean accepted the paper, tucking it away into the pocket of his pants. "i'll be on my way then." 

annie made no comment, simply turning to walk back inside the tavern. 

as he made his way home, only one thought crossed jean's mind. 

what did armin possibly have left to tell him? 

\--

_Dear Jean,_

_I apologise for my impromptu departure. I had been wracked with grief and pent up anger and did not wish to impose it upon you._

_I regret to inform you that I have no intentions to return to trost. As much as I hold many of the friends and people there dear to my heart, I feel that I have nothing to return to. I feel you are the only person who will understand me in this regard._

_I have gifted the title of my grandfather's land to erwin smith, a dear friend of his. Only he and annie leonhart know of my exact whereabouts. if you ever wish to see me again, go to them. They will help you find me, although I understand if you do not._

_Finally, I have one last message for you, Jean Kirstein._

_Let go of that fear of the unknown that is rooted deep within you. Do not chain yourself to that farm, waiting for death to pull you away. Be free. I want to explore with you. I want to visit the ocean with you. I have had many the opportunity to do so alone but it felt so utterly wrong without you by my side. Until the day we find each other again, the ocean will remain a mystery to me._

_You have my heart, jean kirstein._

_Sincerely, Armin Arlet_

  
\--

something of a miracle occurred the next morning. as the townsfolk were barely getting to bed after a late night out, grey clouds, heavy with water swarmed over trost district. jean was standing on his porch when the rain came down, pouring buckets over the dry grass fields, pounding like thunder upon his roof. 

armin's letter sat lonely on his dining room table. when the first drop of rain had fallen, jean had made his decision. he pulled on a pair of leather boots, courtesy of ymir, and didnt bother with an umbrella as he stepped into the rain. 

the water felt good as it soaked through his clothes, dripping down his face in endless chains. he all but ran into the township, and entered erwin's butchery panting, gasping for air. 

the blonde haired man was already inside, hacking away at a leg of lamb when jean arrived. he looked unimpressed as he turned around, but his expression softened as he saw jean. 

seeing as jean had no game on him, erwin could only assume that jean had come to ask him another favor. 

"you here for that address?" 

jean nodded wordlessly and erwin wiped his hands together before grabbing a piece of paper from an open recipe's book on the counter. he scribbled a string of numbers and letter with a graphite pencil before folding it up and handing it to the other. 

jean thanked and turned to leave, however, he stopped in his tracks. erwin gave him a confused look that said, why are you still standing here, soaking wet in my shop? 

jean swallowed. "why?" surely erwin knew that armin and jean werent just friends. 

"do i need a reason?" 

jean's expression was enough of an answer.

"edward was the only person who didnt shame me for what i believed. im only returning the favor." erwin offered, his explanation vague. "now get out before you wet my floorboards any further." 

with the paper held tightly in his hand, jean did as he was told, boots squelching in the mud along the dirt road that lead home. he packed his bags hastily and scribbled on the back of armin's letter a small note of his own, addressed to marco.

the other wouldve been asleep still, provably very hungover, but jean needed to make sure someone could look after tessy when he was gone. 

gone. 

he would be gone. he would be with armin. soon. 

first, he needed to stop by marco's place. he had two bags of coins. one for marco and the other for himself. once he stopped by the boldt household, jean could hardly keep his feet on the ground as he begun toward the railway station.

if he was fast enough, he would make the last morning train. 

and then, he would be free. 

  
\--

**Author's Note:**

> These are a few of the lyrics that inspired me!
> 
> "If you find it's me you're missing,  
> If you're hoping I'll return  
> To your thoughts, I'll soon be listening,  
> In the road, I'll stop and turn
> 
> Bind me not, to the pasture  
> Chain me not to the plough  
> Set me free, to find my calling   
> And I'll return to you somehow


End file.
